Carly > Recent Status Updates

I guess now is a perfect time for my annual re-read 😊

No sign the priest had been there except for the faint scent of Catholicism…a mix of wax candles, ancient artifacts and guilt.

"You have issues."
"I ain't the grumpy-grumplebottom here. I'm a simple hockey god who knows the best things in life come to those who believe. We live in magical times, my friend. Internet sex and make-your-own-funnel-cake kits exist."

I must look like a deranged animal unsure what to do about the ice cream truck barreling toward me - you know, panicked over nothing since ice cream trucks move at the speed of glaciers - because his grin widens, but somehow becomes kinder at the same time.

"You're not listening to me, are you?"
Snapping out of his thoughts, Tate blinked at his father. "Not really, no."
Leaning back in the dining chair, Vinnie sighed. "I figured as much when I asked if you'd ever consider fucking a goat and you actually nodded."

"Okay, so what did you want to talk about?" Havana narrowed her eyes. "Is this about us putting Creepy Stan up for sale on Gregslist?"
Corbin shook his head. "No."
"Trying to buy an otter when we were smashed?"
"No."
Bailey clicked her fingers. "Ooh, baptizing Hoe Bag in the pool?"
"Her name is Ginny. And I wouldn't call holding her head under the water until she almost drowns a baptism."
"She was praying."

"You'll be bored out of your mind just standing in the street."
He shrugged and bit into his Pop Tart. "I'll take some beef jerky with me."
"You say that like eating us a form of entertainment for you."
"Well, it keeps me entertained."
So it would seem. "Why not just sit in the daycare's reception area?"
"Because listening to kids squealing and crying will ruin my snack-on-beef-jerky quality time."
Awkward fucker.

Bree shrugged. "It is true that my cat would like to tear several strips out of his scalp, gag him with them, and then perform a vile and brutal version of testicle removal surgery while he's alive and unable to scream."
Shaya smiled at the sole female in her security team. "This is why I love pallas cats."
Casey chuckled.

A good story never failed to pull Bree in, which was what she needed - an escape. If that was cowardly, she didn't care. Everyone needed an escape sometimes. Some used drugs or alcohol. She used books, and anyone who thought that was childish could go fuck themselves with a Tiki torch.

"What'd you do?" Bria sidled closer. "I can feel that soul. Was that there the whole time?"
"What's your deal?" I asked the guy as he brought his hands up, probably to do magic.
I sapped power from him. I giveth, and I taketh away.
"I'm not your enemy," I said. "I'm just a girl, standing in front of a spirit, wondering what the fuck?"
"Yeah, good people skills," Bria said, and she was serious.

"This isn't just training," Dylan said from his place in the corner. "He has an affinity for it. If he had adopted Valen's ruthless style…"
"I didn't adopt my father's…style, and if I ever try, Daisy has promised to burn my house down," Kieran said.
"With you in it," Daisy said.
"Right, yes, with me in it," Kieran said. "How silly of me to forget that detail."

Shoes scraped against rock behind her. A strange sort of shuffle reverberated through the short tunnel. A scream tore through the air.
"Oops. There goes one of the cadavers," Donovan called up. "Wasn't one of the ones you wanted, though-"
Bria spun around. " Catch it with your magic! That's a good body."
"Oh." Donovan paused. "Should I have? Too late now. Its head popped off on the landing. I'll catch the next one."

Hugh leaned against the wall, big, dark, the happy-to-kill-you psychopath I remembered. I handed him a stack of plates. "Make yourself useful."
He winked at me.
I swiped a knife off the island and threw it. It sprouted from the wall an inch from his nose. "You'll need cutlery," I told him. "Second drawer on your right."

He shrugged. "We need him and his wife. I can always kill him later."
His Furriness, the Long-term Planner. "We'll have to sit down with them eventually and have a conversation. Can you be civil?"
"Can you?"
"I'm always civil."
He crossed his arms. The muscles on his forearms stood out. Mmm.
"Really?" Curran asked.
"Sometimes I jump on the table and kick people in the face, but I'm always civil about it."

The liquid smelled of flowers and pond water. I frowned. Usually it was much deeper. One time Ghastek's vamp came with me and it slipped and went all the way under.
I walked through the nearly dry tunnel. "What happened to all the tortoise spit?"
"I'm wearing my good robe," Roman said.
Having your mother serve as one of the three witches of the Oracle had its perks.

"Do you still have the corpse bus?" I asked.
Teddy Jo grimaced. "It's not a corpse bus. It's a Multiple Recently Deceased Efficient Removal vehicle."
"You do realize that spells MURDER?" Derek asked.
Teddy Jo gave him a look. "Yes, I do. That's the point."
Angel of Death humor, what would I do without it? "It would really help if you could get the MURDER bus, load these bodies up, and deliver them.

"Why clean the skulls, though?" Derek asked. "Wouldn't the severed heads be more effective?"
"Because scavengers are less likely nibble on a clean human skull than on something with flesh still attached. Besides, having a pile of rotten human heads is unhygienic," Erra said.
Of course. When making monuments of human skulls, one must always keep hygiene in mind.

Andrea stared at me. "Do I even know you? What do you have for a treat?"
"Cookies."
"Your son is a lion."
"I know that!"
"Cookies aren't gonna to cut it. Do you know any lion hunters who bait their traps with cookies?"
"I don't know any lion hunters, period. And you know what, apple pie worked for me."
"I've got news for you, it wasn't your apple pie Curran was interested in."
She had me there.

Hugh shook his head. "I had a crazy thought."
"By all means, do share it."
"What if I'm dead and this is purgatory, and you're my punishment?"
"I doubt it," she told him.
"Why?"
"Because if I'm your punishment, you're mine. The Christian god is the god of forgiveness. He is too kind to do this, even to us."
He laughed again.

"Vampires!" Bale bellowed and pointed behind them. "You fought vampires and I didn't get to go?"
The Dogs snickered. Hugh cracked a smile.
"It was a glorious battle," Lamar said. "You slept through it all."
Bale stared at him, incredulous. "You took Lamar? Lamar instead of me?"
"Don't worry," Lamar said. "I'll tell you all about it."
Bale shook his arms and howled at the sky. "There is no justice in the world!"

If he killed her, he'd have to kill everyone else in the damn settlement. His rage was boiling over and he distilled it to a single word "When?"
"When I feel like it."
She was toying with him
Elara reached over, picked up a folder, and held it up in front of her so only her eyes were visible
"What are you doing?"
"Waiting for your head to explode. I don't want to miss it, but I don't want to be splattered with gore."

Barabas had posted the sign-up sheet for the battle. There were seven names on it already. It was hanging between next week's menu and the petition to add free weights to the training yard. There was a deep and meaningful life lesson about the nature of human existence in there somewhere, but I didn't feel like looking for it.

Embossed with roses, an outrageously curvy cursive said:
With great pleasure we invite you to the union of
Kate Daniels & Curran Lennart
"What is this?"
"It's a wedding invitation," Julie said.
"I didn't order any."
Julie grinned at me. "Roman."
Ugh. That's right. I waved the envelope at her. "It has flowers on it."
"Did you want gore, swords, and severed heads?" she asked.
Smartass.
Speaking of severed heads…

"Why?" Barabas asked.
"Because he doesn't want me talking to my grandmother."
Barabas looked at Curran.
Curran shrugged. "It's a family thing. Sometimes your father puts your semidead grandmother into a really bad place and is ashamed of it."
"Yeah," Barabas said. "We've all been there."
"You two are a riot," I told them.

He gave us a brief introduction. "Welcome aboard the Sushi Lover, captained by none other than Adexios, Charon's infamous son."
"Er, isn't he the one who lost the oar?" I whispered to Grandma.
"Yes. And tipped a few boats. Don't worry. This thing has engines, and even if it tips, you should float despite what those Puritans in Salem used to think."
The reassurance missed the mark.

"Feeling cute," Arion says, grinning like he thinks he's adorable or some shit, as he lazily shrugs a shoulder. "May give you an orgasm. May not. I dunno."
"That's possibly the worse joke I've ever heard from an ancient vampire. This is how we're going to spend our wedding night or whatever it is?" I ask, and then cringe when I feel like an idiot for saying that.
I wish I could knee him in the balls right now.

"Of course," I say as though that makes perfect sense. "And the dragon's cemetery is a euphemism for what?"
They both stare at me, looking uncomfortable, as though they don't want to tell me there is no euphemism and an oops-have-we-never-told-you-about-dragons-before expression.
Awesome.
"So there are dead dragons-"
"Dragon," Emit is quick to amend. "There was only ever one."
"Well, that changes everything."

He breaks this kiss, breathing heavily as his hands grip me at the waist.
"As much as I would love losing myself in you, especially after the rough few days, I'm afraid I have to escort some wolves to the running lands. Also, there's a stamp on your forehead that spells 'LOSER,' and I'm finding it terribly distracting during this really intense moment."

"Something's amiss."
"What's not right is having briars stuck to your cock," Emit retorts from the woods, swearing vengeance on a prickly bush of some sort, given the rest of his muttered commentary that I barely pick up bits and pieces of
"If anyone's cock deserves to get stabbed by briars, it's yours," I assure him, distracted by the day's random events
"You should do better maintenance on your lands, Van Helsing."

"I want to know, damn it. I'm far too curious."
The frustrated vampire bangs on the door.
"Hurry it up in there. We've got more pressing matters to-"
He narrowly dodges a blade that stabs through the door, having been aimed at his forehead.
"That's rude," Arion states too carelessly. "On another note, this is decidedly his tie-on-the-door move," he adds, tapping the side of the blade.